Yilara
by Rilawa
Summary: The story of our favourite paternal magician and the woman who captured his heart. Written to make up for the dearth of good Rothen stories in the fandom. Cross posted from Deviantart.


**Disclaimer: I do not own BMT**

* * *

Rothen strode along a side corridor of the University, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember the molecular formula for ethyl alcohol. He walked oblivious to the few people passing him, his eyes turned toward the floor as he tried to recall. He suddenly saw a shadow in front of him. It was stationary and he realized too late that he was going to bang into its owner even as he looked up.

He did, hard. The person grunted and turned around, his huge size restricting him from moving too fast. Rothen gulped. He recognized the figure all too well, and he also knew the gang of his friends clustered around him.

"Watch where you're going, you clumsy idiot," the towering novice growled.

"Sorry, Voren," said Rothen compliantly. He knew that where this particular bully was concerned it was best to just toady along, not just to avoid getting bashed up by his gang then and there, but because Voren had a mind power not indicated by his brutish appearance and always carefully laid down a mean plan to get into trouble whoever had dared to cheek him. Rothen had witnessed it happening and had no wish to join the list of victims.

He tried to step around Voren and dash to class but was stopped by a skinny arm flung across his path. Gemel, an accomplice of Voren's with a face like an enker sneered, "Where're you running off to?"

"I'm late for chemistry," replied Rothen, slowly edging around. "Would you mind? We have a test today."

"You're already late," said Voren, shrugging. He had a surprisingly soft voice for such a lout. "Won't make much of a difference now."

Rothen swallowed apprehensively. This could get ugly really soon…even if a magician happened to walk by, it might be too late…

His books and pens tumbled to the ground as Voren yanked him forward by the front of his robes. "That's a lot of books you've got, Rothen," he grinned. "Sure your itty bitty brain can handle all that information?"

"Let me go," gasped Rothen. Voren's hold on his collar was horribly tight. "Please."

Voren faked a look of astonishment. "Did you hear that, everyone? The little ceryni's not too proud to beg for his life after all."

He then lifted Rothen clean off the floor, making him gasp and choke before dumping him on the ground and placing a heavy boot on him, forcing him to kneel. "Well then," Voren smirked, "it won't kill you to beg some more."

He pressed down on Rothen's back until Rothen fell flat on the floor, his forehead colliding with the hard tiles. He felt dazed and let out an involuntary moan. The sound of the other boys' cruel laughter made his head ring all the more.

"Leave him alone!" he heard a feminine voice shriek. Turning his head, he glimpsed a brown form running towards them a moment before it collided with Voren and forced his boot off his back. Rothen's rescuer grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him away behind her. All he could see of her were the brown robes she was wearing and the mass of ebony hair tumbling down her back. Her voice, when she spoke, did not help him recognize her for he had never heard it before.

"Back off." Her small hands were bunched into fists. "Leave him alone or-"

"Back off." It was Gemel, imitating her in a high-pitched voice. "Leave my Rothen alone or I'll-"

SMACK!

Gemel recoiled in shock, hand flying to the vivid red imprint of five fingers burned onto his face. Rothen saw the girl's cheek lift as she smiled, then she tensed as the third-year novices closed in around her.

"Oh boy, she gave you one," smirked another member of the gang, only to be thumped by Voren.

"You watch yourself, brat," he snarled. "You might be just a girl but we can still teach you a few lessons…"

The girl gave a snort that could shame a horse. "Really? Well, when's it going to happen, Voren ? This century or the next? Because that's all you do, isn't it, keep yammering away because you're too afraid to face up to even a skinny girl-"

Rothen watched Voren's face darken as he listened to the girl's speech. He opened his mouth to yell out a futile warning as Voren curled his fingers into a tight fist and aimed at her head.

He needn't have worried. The girl, instead of ducking to avoid the blow, caught his fist in one hand with a strength unsuggested by her slight frame. With a grunt of effort she twisted his arm so that he let out a great howl.

"What is going on here?" roared another voice to their right. They all looked in that direction to see the Administrator striding towards them looking completely furious, his blue robes billowing out around him.

Rothen, who had been on the floor all this time, hurriedly scrambled to his feet. The girl let go of Voren and he moaned and staggered backward, rubbing his arm and pretending to be in great pain. The rest of Voren's gang did their best to look innocent.

Administrator Dalvin came to a halt in front of them, looking from one guilty gang member to the next, to Rothen and finally to the girl standing right before him. "Yilara," he said in a booming voice, "would you mind telling me why you were twisting Voren's arm?"

"She attacked me, sir!" exclaimed Voren before Yilara could say anything. "She just came at me when I hadn't done anything-"

"Be quiet, Voren," said Dalvin. "I asked Yilara."

The girl turned to glance at Rothen and he finally recognized her. She was a first-year novice he had often glimpsed walking about the University on her own. Rumours about her, filtered to all the novices whether they wanted to hear them or not, reported her as a member of Family Devrin and House Saril, one of the most powerful Houses in Kyralia. She had no friends, however, and barely spoke a word to anyone, even the teachers in class. Anyone who approached her with friendly advances was politely rebuffed so that while nobody really liked her, she was generally left alone and did the same with everyone else. Rothen had never heard of her getting involved in any scuffles before, although he didn't usually keep his ears pricked for news.

"I saw Voren attacking Rothen, sir, and tried to stop him."

"Is this true?" asked the Administrator, turning a beady gaze on Rothen. Rothen nodded.

Dalvin sighed. "Today is just one of the many complaints I've heard about you, Voren, as well as you-Gemel, Rakyd, Solin. You are all to come down to my office this instant. You too, Yilara."

"But Administrator!" protested Rothen. "She didn't do anything!"

The glare he got silenced him. "Fighting in the University is banned," pronounced the Administrator. "Whatever the circumstances, Yilara must also bear the punishment for breaking rules. After all she needn't have fought back. Classes are not far away-you could have called a magician, couldn't you?" he said to her. She nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"Rothen, get to class," said Dalvin. "Tell Lord Margen I have excused you for being late."

Rothen bowed, throwing one last sympathetic glance at Yilara. She didn't acknowledge it. He turned and continued on his way to the chemistry test, knowing that not even the Administrator's grace could save him from the wrath of his teacher.

* * *

"Yilara,wait!" Rothen called. The slight figure at the top of the stairs paused, turned around, then continued on her way as if she hadn't heard him. Scowling, Rothen quickened his pace, took the steps three at a time and caught up with her.

He put his hand on her shoulder and she shook it off, nearly dislodging the huge pile of books she was carrying. Two heavy ones fell off the top of the pile with a thud and she jumped back to avoid them falling on her shoes. The rest of the pile teetered, leaned forward and tumbled onto the floor.

"Now look what you did!" she hissed. Kneeling, she started to pick up the books.

"Sorry," said Rothen. He bent down and scooped up several of the tomes and handed them back to her. "What were you doing with them? Even fifth-years don't have this much reading to do."

"It's punishment. For rescuing your backside," she added on seeing his puzzled expression. "Voren's gang and I have to help Jerrik in the library."

Rothen winced. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

Yilara sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Rothen. And anyway, I only have one week. They have to do two months."

"That will definitely kill them," grinned Rothen. His expression sobered as he looked at the steady figure of Yilara plodding along beside him. "I haven't thanked you. You didn't have to fight them-you could have called for help. Why did you just rush in?"

Yilara sighed again. "When I see people being hurt like that, Rothen, I just can't take it. I never waste time looking for someone else to do the job. Even if I get hurt, the sooner it's over, the better."

"That's a bit of a…suicidal policy (Yilara glared at him) but it works well."

"And you're welcome," she murmured, turning away down a corridor. He followed.

"Here, let me take some of these," he said, grabbing more than half the pile of books.

"Rothen, don't! You'll get in trouble if anyone sees you!" she exclaimed.

"We'll be quits then," he smiled. She rolled her eyes and walked on in front of him, but not before Rothen saw a smile lift the corners of her mouth.

As they approached the library, Rothen hurriedly gave all the books to Yilara and waited while she went inside and stacked them on a table. "Thank you. You may go," he heard Jerrik say in a gruff voice.

Yilara came out and was surprised to see him still standing there. "Still here?"

Rothen shrugged. "I didn't get to say good bye."

Yilara smiled, the skin at the corners of her eyes crinkling up. "I won't say good bye; just see you around." She cocked her head like a bird and looked at him. "That is, if you don't mind me talking to you again."

"Of course not," said Rothen. "It's my pleasure. I will see you around."

* * *

Rothen wandered over the footpaths of the Guild gardens, enjoying the warm summer sun on his face. He was virtually the only person walking the grounds this Freeday afternoon and at first had welcomed the solitude. But now he was bored with no one to speak to so when he saw a brown figure sitting on a bench deep within the gardens he made his way towards it.

"Oh, hello, Yilara," he said, stopping short when he saw who it was. She was leaning her head on her hand which was propped up against the armrest and seemed to be deep in thought.

She looked up on hearing his voice and smiled. "Hello, Rothen." Her smile was odd, as if she were doing it not for his benefit but to distract herself from her musings.

He sat down beside her. "I didn't expect to see you here. Everyone else has gone to the Races or something."

"I thought I'd be alone too," she said. Her voice also sounded distracted and he wondered if he should leave, although this was the first chance he'd had had in a long while for a conversation with her, even though during the library incident he had promised to meet her.

She seemed to read his mind, for she said, "But please don't go. I'd like some company. I haven't seen you around much for weeks."

"I was studying," he replied, "for the summer tests. My chemistry practical had to be perfect, especially."

"No choice with old Margen as your guardian now, right?" she grinned. "I pity you."

"He's not that bad," Rothen protested. "He can be a bit strict at times but he's alright to me."

"Only because you're the best in your year at chemistry," said Yilara. "You're lucky. I wish he'd go easy on me sometimes."

"Well…"

Rothen glanced at Yilara. Over the past weeks more stories about her had been passed down to him, to which he had uncharacteristically listened. From the being the silent nobody in class, she had gone to being a rude and defiant personality, talking back to the teachers and snapping at almost anyone else who dared to speak to her, heavy sarcasm always layering her words. Rothen was the only person he knew who hadn't had to face her sharp tongue. He wasn't surprised Lord Margen found so much fault with her.

"But don't you think he has reasons, Yilara? I've heard some of the things people have been saying about you-"

"And you decided to believe them, did you?" she cried, suddenly furious. She leapt off the bench and stood in front of him, fists clenched. Rothen was alarmed to see she was actually shivering with rage.

"You don't know anything about it! I thought you were the one person in this stupid place who didn't listen to lies; I guess I was wrong. I admit I did some of those things but then I didn't ask to come to the Guild! I don't want to be here! And neither would you if-"

"But why are you so angry now?" he asked.

"I-oh, nothing!" she insisted exasperatedly.

"What is that?" he cried, suddenly noticing a dark purple bruise on her collarbone.

"Nothing," she exclaimed, hurriedly drawing up the collar of her robe. He heard a hitch in her voice.

"Yilara, what-what's going on?" he asked. "Did someone hurt you?"

"Don't be silly, Rothen. Of course not!" But now there was a decided catch in her voice.

"Yilara, I think you should tell me." He moved towards her, arms outstretched. She caught his wrists and lowered them, not meeting his gaze. "No, Rothen. You're mistaken. There's nothing to tell. A small accident, that's all."

A small leaf falling out of the tree beneath which they stood struck her face and slid smoothly down her cheek alongside a single teardrop. Before Rothen could open his mouth to say anything else, she turned away, brushed leaf and tear off her face and set off at a swift pace into the gardens, darting among the trees until she was out of sight.

* * *

"Rothen?" a soft voice said from somewhere behind him. He turned to be confronted by a wall of books.

The voice giggled. "Over here, silly." He followed the sound of it to a gap between the library shelves and found himself confronting a familiar face.

"Yilara?" he gasped, his books nearly tumbling out of his arms in surprise.

She rolled her eyes. "No, it's your mother," she mocked and he realized that for the first time she was being sarcastic not to hurt but to tease.

"Yes?" he said cautiously. He still didn't know how things between them were, since they had not spoken to each other since the encounter in the garden two weeks before. He hadn't tried to find her after the argument-if indeed, that is what it was-knowing she would need time to get over whatever had happened and decide to forgive him for his unintended intrusion. Then again, she might be harbouring a grudge against him for seeing her at her weakest and be planning her revenge, even if she hadn't seemed that type before. The problem was, it was so hard to tell with Yilara. She was a complete mystery.

"Come on," she said, tugging on his sleeve and pulling him out of the library. "I want to talk to you in private."

To his surprise she led him into a part of the University hardly anyone ever came into, high above the levels of the classrooms. "I found this place a few weeks ago," she said, and Rothen watched in amazement as she pressed a small panel in the wall and a much bigger one next to it slid aside, revealing one of the entrances to the University's secret passages.

"Are you sure we're allowed in there?" he said, eyeing it apprehensively. He was sure he had heard something about roaming the passages being banned a few months back.

"Oh, come on. Where's your sense of adventure?" said Yilara. Rothen looked at her. Her large eyes were shining, her black curls tumbled around her shoulders and her mouth was stretched into a full-length grin. Despite himself, he couldn't help smiling back. This was in such contrast to the angry, crying girl he had last seen.

She took his hand and pulled him into the passageway. "Come on." She pulled it shut behind them and they were immediately plunged into darkness. Rothen automatically made a globe light.

"Wish we knew how to make those," said Yilara wistfully.

Rothen grinned at her. "That's why you have me around."

"Yes," she smiled. "It is convenient having an older novice for a friend."

Rothen looked at her. "So that's what we are now? Friends?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "Though I'm not sure you want to be mine after the way I've been acting. I should have explained it all to you earlier, I guess, but..."

"Never mind, you can tell me now," said Rothen, intrigued.

"Well-"

Yilara paused. She bit down on her lower lip with a worried look, as if she were wondering whether to continue.

"Go on," Rothen encouraged.

She looked down and scuffed her boot, embarrassed. "This is harder to get out than I thought."

"But am I right in thinking it's about your bruise?"

"Yes. But before that I wanted to say that-" she looked him full in the eye, "-I'm sorry I've been acting so mean to you, and to everyone. I just-if I'm upset I don't like people asking me about it and that's why I lashed out. It was because I-I got bullied." The last three words came out so soft he almost didn't hear them.

"Who's been hurting you?" he said, grabbing her shoulders. "I'll tell Margen, we'll get it sorted out-"

"You can't do anything Rothen, because it's no one in the Guild," said Yilara, gently disentangling herself from him. "You probably don't know I go out every night to see my parents." Rothen shook his head.

"Well, I do because they live close to the Guild and I miss them a lot. Remember I told you I didn't want to join the Guild? It was my mother and all my aunts and uncles who persuaded me but still-I'm not happy here. I hate being away from my home." She shot him a glance. "You probably think I'm a big baby, don't you?"

"No, I don't," Rothen said, truthfully. "Go on."

"A distant relative of ours lives right next door. The parapet wall is low and his three sons-triplets three years older than me-often jump the wall to come see us. We used to be friends and play together when we were little but that's all over now. I think they're jealous of me because I'm a magician. I haven't had much time to do anything other than talk to my parents each evening. I suppose they were insulted about that too, thinking I was snubbing them. The eldest called me over and I went. I didn't expect them to do anything to me, of course. They have some uncle who's a magician who must have told them first-years don't learn much Warrior skills. So they just ganged up on me and-well, that's how I got that bruise you saw. Plus a few others but they weren't too bad."

Rothen let out a hiss of anger. "I can't believe you didn't tell me that! Please tell me your parents set the Guard after them at least."

"They didn't." Yilara's gaze was steady. "I haven't told anyone about it except you."

Rothen's jaw dropped. " _What?!_ You're letting them get away with it? Why?"

"Because I didn't want anyone to know." Yilara regarded him plaintively. "People think I'm too small and weak to do anything properly, Rothen. They treat me like a fragile vase. I don't want anyone's pity or anger, yours either. I only told you because I wanted you to know why I've been acting the way I have; I didn't want you to think too badly of me because you-you're the only friend I have here."

Rothen gazed at her, touched. "Why won't you make any other friends?" he asked softly.

"I don't want to tie myself to a place I hate," she muttered, turning away. "I only ever wanted to stay at home with my mother. Maybe, when she realizes how miserable I am here, she'll let me come home."

Rothen wondered how someone could be so homesick for a place that was a few minutes' walk away. Yilara was lucky she hadn't been born Elyne.

"Which reminds me," she said, turning back to him with a smile, "my mother met yours at the Palace ball last week. They've been going over to each other's places quite a lot."

"Oh yes, my father did mention Mother's new friend," said Rothen, remembering a recent conversation. "So that was your mother! He mentioned a daughter too but not her name so I didn't realize-your mother's name is Ylaina, isn't it?"

"Right. She'd already heard a lot about you from me but now that she's met your parents, she wants to meet you too. She's invited you to dinner on Fourthday evening at our house. Will you come?"

"Well," said Rothen, "I'd like to but I'm not sure how much I still have to study so..."

"Oh, come on, Rothen!" Yilara cried incredulously. "You're only in the second year! And it's summer break soon. Please?" She looked at him with large, exaggeratedly plaintive eyes. Her lips quivered heartrendingly.

Rothen tried to keep a straight face. A small chortle escaped him.

"Please?" she repeated, her lower lip shaking for all its worth.

He started to laugh. "All right, all right," he chuckled. "Just-just don't give me that look again."

"What look?" asked Yilara, making her eyes go round and innocent. Rothen brought up his hands to shield himself from her gaze, laughing hard all the time.

"Stop!" he gasped. "Please; I'm getting a stitch."

"Oh, alright," said Yilara exasperatedly. "If you're really such a softie then there's no point in it, I guess..."

"Hey." Rothen straightened and narrowed his eyes at her. "Watch who you're calling a softie."

"Oh, so you can do something," Yilara said delightedly. "Well, come on, Rothen. Catch me!"

"What?" he said, confused.

She rolled her eyes. "I run and you try to catch me. It's a simple enough game."

"Down there?" he said, eyeing the dark tunnel behind them apprehensively.

"I thought you're not a softie?" she taunted. "Afraid to break some silly rule?"

"No, I'm not," he said, rising to her bait. And without warning he lunged for her. But she was too fast and darted out of his way into the tunnel. "Catch me if you can!" she squealed before turning and running off. Surging with adrenaline that this surprising girl had brought out in him, he gave chase.


End file.
